


An Informal Tourney

by Requ (Etude)



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1273225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etude/pseuds/Requ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna and Kristoff attempt to reenact a jousting tourney. Elsa is an unwilling participant.</p><p>Set in the same universe as A Formal Arrangement, in which Anna and Elsa referenced a childhood memory, but readers do not have to have read AFA to read this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Informal Tourney

**Author's Note:**

> Just know that in this AU, Anna and Kristoff are siblings and are the princess and prince of Corona while Elsa is the sole princess of Arendelle. Anna is nine, Elsa and Kristoff are twelve. Slight Elsanna.

Elsa stared. “Anna,” she said slowly. “Why are there ponies in the ballroom?”

 

Anna bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly, like a small red rabbit. “We’re going to have a tourney! I’ll be Joan and Kristoff will be that English king, uh, what’s his name—”

 

“King Henry VI,” Elsa answered absently, her eyes still riveted to the ponies. The ballroom was one of the smaller, lesser used ones, and entirely empty except for what appeared to be a few pieces of scavenged armor, the ponies, and Anna and Kristoff. “Unless you’re referring to King Henry V, the boy king before him,” Elsa added, because she’d learned her lessons well and not being clear in her speech was anathema to her precise nature. And with what Anna had just declared, as well as given the materials laid out before her...

 

The older princess had a very bad feeling about this. “How is this going to work, exactly?” Elsa asked, delicately. Perhaps she’d just jumped to conclusions. Perhaps Anna was not going to do exactly what she thought the younger girl was going to do and Elsa would not have to endure this… tourney.

 

“Well, we’re going to put on the armor and, oh! We have lances and shields, too!” Elsa looked to the corner Anna pointed to and saw, with a sinking feeling, a pair of brooms and barrel lids propped up against the wall. Lances and shields. Good grief. Her jumps to conclusion were always right when it came to Anna. She dearly wished she would be _wrong_ for once. That, for just an instant, Anna would do something _safe_.

 

“And then we’re going to get on the ponies and joust!” Anna beamed proudly. “It’ll be just like the Hundred Years War, but _better_.”

 

Better. How on earth was this going to be _better_?

 

There were so many things wrong with this particular idea, and with what had just come out of Anna’s mouth, that Elsa was momentarily stunned speechless. She decided to voice the most obvious ones first, hoping that it’d stop the ensuing disaster she was certain to befall them.

 

“Joan of Arc never jousted, Anna. She was a peasant girl. And never actually knighted.”

 

“So?” Anna asked, guileless. “She’s still a hero! And won battles and was brave and courageous and—”

 

Elsa held up a hand to stop the impassioned defense. Historical accuracy was irrevelant, apparently. She tried a different tactic.

 

“Anna, those ponies don’t have any _saddles_.”

 

“Oh, well, I couldn’t get the tack on them _and_ be quick about it,” Anna explained patiently. “Kristoff had to distract the groomsman while I fetched them and I couldn’t do that while trying to saddle them, too,” she said, like this was the most reasonable thing in the world.

 

“How did you even get them in here?” Elsa asked, incredulous.

 

“With apples, of course!” As though the beasts were people and Elsa was inquiring if they’d given their equine consent to be led into the castle. “They do have reins, too.”

 

“No, how did you get them into the castle without being _seen_?” For surely there should have been some passing servant who’d seen them? They had enough staff in the castle that Anna couldn’t have managed to slip by all of them with a pair of _ponies_ in tow. Elsa’s eyes unwillingly fell on the beasts in question again, still trying to reconcile the sight of them in a place where they had no business being. It was like the metaphorical elephant in the china shop. Or was it a bull? However the saying went, this one was worse because it was actually happening. One even raised its head and neighed at her mockingly. She glared at it.

 

“Oh! Do you remember that side door by the east wing? Near the stables?” Anna said.

 

“The one that’s sealed?”

 

“Yes! That one! Kristoff and I got the bolt unstuck and we got them in through there.”

 

Elsa closed her eyes, appalled. She’d been the one to show Anna that door. She had inadvertently contributed to this. She was an accomplice now.

 

Ponies. In a ballroom. For a tourney. Elsa could understand the individual words, but in no way should they be strung together into a sentence.

 

Elsa wasn’t sure if she ought to put her face down into her hands and pretend it wasn’t happening, like an ostrich burying its head in sand, or cast her eyes heavenward and pray for guidance. Neither would accomplish anything, so Elsa kept staring at Anna and _willed_ the younger girl to admit that this was a terrible idea and to remove the animals before any of their parents found out.

 

Anna grinned back. “Want to help us put on the armor?”

 

Well, Anna was not receptive to psychic messages, obviously. Or maybe she was and simply excelled at misinterpreting them.

 

“Anna, we can’t. This idea, it’s so… so…”

 

“Brilliant? Exciting? Fun?” Anna peppered her with suggestions.

 

Elsa glanced at her. “I was going to say ‘reckless.’ Our parents will kill us when they find out.” God. She’d said “us.” She really was an accomplice and all she’d done was walk into the room after Anna had dragged Elsa away from an assignment her history tutor had given her.

 

Anna waved her hand airily. “Oh, it’ll be fine! Nobody ever comes to this part of the castle. We’ll be quiet and it’ll be so much fun!”

 

“Anna, I really am against this idea.”

 

“Elsa!” Anna whined, pouting. “Come on! Don’t you want to be like a shining knight, riding in on a gorgeous steed with a lance and shield? And win a tourney and some grand prize? Or ride off to slay dragons?”

 

No, in fact, Elsa did not harbor a desire to do any of those things. “You’ve been reading too many fairy tales,” Elsa said. “And what does Kristoff think?”

 

The blond boy’s head popped up from the pile of armor. “It’ll be fun, Elsa!” He grinned crookedly. “And hey, this breastplate almost fits me. Do you think Kai’s kept the chainmail somewhere? Or maybe real swords, like a claymore?”

 

Elsa closed her eyes again. No, she would not be getting any kind of help from Kristoff. Then her eyes snapped back open. “Wait, where did you get that armor?”

 

“By the portrait gallery,” Anna said. “They were the smallest we could find. You know, the dwarf ones?”

 

Elsa knew. Those particular suits weren’t actually made for dwarves, they were simply smaller than most of the other suits that stood sentry throughout the castle, and Anna had taken to calling them the dwarf knights. They were still far too large for a nine year-old Anna, but allegedly almost small enough for Kristoff, who was Anna’s senior by three years.

 

“Those are my ancestors’ suits,” Elsa said weakly. “My family’s legacy—”

 

“Oh, what good are they if they’re just collecting dust outside the portrait gallery, Elsa?” Anna retorted. “I bet your ancestors would be happier if they got _used_.”

 

Not for this they wouldn’t, Elsa imagined. She tried again. “Anna, this really is a bad idea.” She adopted the look her father got when he was speaking to a particularly irritating dignitary. “And if you do not stop it this instant, I will tell your parents.” She even put her hands on her hips to emphasize her point.

 

“Too late for that now,” Anna said brightly. “I asked one of the serving boys to lock the door after us.”

 

Elsa’s jaw went slack. “ _What?”_ She went to the door and turned the doorknob. It held stubbornly fast. Elsa whirled around, her cheeks flushing. _“You’ve locked us in here?!”_ Her voice went embarrassingly shrill and high, but Elsa was too outraged to care.

 

“Oh, it’s just for the next hour,” Anna said, still grinning. “I told him to come back later.”

 

Elsa’s gloved hands clenched. “You knew I wouldn’t agree to this!” She accused.

 

“Of course,” the younger girl said, surprised that Elsa even had to ask. “Besides, you’ve been up in your room _all day_ and it’s been ages since we’ve done anything fun like this. Wouldn’t you rather play with us than work?”

 

Elsa scowled mightily, her expression turning thunderous. Anna looked back fearlessly, an eyebrow lifted in defiance. “Come on,” Anna cajoled. “You don’t want to be _boring_ , do you?”

 

Oh, but Anna did know where to strike and Elsa had a very sensitive nerve there. After a struggle, Elsa released her breath in a great gust of a sigh. “Fine,” she muttered, even as Anna clapped her hands together and seized the older princess in a hug. “But I swear, Anna, if we get caught—”

 

“We won’t!” Anna grinned confidently. She took Elsa’s hand and dragged her over to where the armor and Kristoff sat. “And you can go after me, or joust against me. Oh, and help me get the armor on!”

 

Elsa helped both Anna and Kristoff put the armor on. She’d rationalized that since she was locked in the same room for the next hour, Anna and Kristoff were still going to proceed with this farce of a tourney whether or not Elsa wanted to be a part of it. If she helped, at least this way she could make sure what things they could use to prevent injury were fastened well.

 

She was making up excuses and knew her own mind well enough to be aware of it.

 

They couldn’t get every single piece on—Kristoff could somewhat fit in the helm, breastplate, boots and gauntlets, but Anna simply disappeared beneath her breastplate and helm. The gauntlets and boots were far too large for her hands and feet.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Anna said resolutely, voice echoing inside the helm. She groped somewhere in the vicinity of her face to flip up the visor. “I’ve got the shield.”

 

“The barrel lid,” Elsa corrected, resigned. It was large enough to be a shield for Anna, but in no way could it be mistaken for a real one, especially since it looked like woodpeckers had gone at it. Where on earth had Anna found the sorry thing? “It’s a barrel lid, Anna. And your lance is a broomstick.”

 

“You don’t have any imagination, Elsa,” the younger girl complained. “I’m _Joan_ and Kristoff is the English King whatever-his-name-was—”

 

“Henry,” Elsa corrected again. “Either the fifth or sixth, but probably the sixth if you’re speaking of when Joan was alive.”

 

“Yes, that one. Anyway, you’ll address me as Joan of Arc, savior of France!” Anna stuck her chest and chin out in what Elsa presumed was supposed to be a heroic pose. She held it for a moment before the visor slammed shut on Anna’s face. “Oww. That was loud.”

 

“Yes, Joan,” Elsa said with a roll of her eyes. “Would you like your lance as well? And your barrel shield?”

 

“It’s just ‘shield’, Elsa!” Anna struggled to her feet and stood awkwardly. “How do I look?”

 

Elsa eyed her. “Like the court jester,” she said. “If you’d allow, Sir Joan, I can fetch your lance and shield since I’ve been drafted as your squire.”

 

“Court jesters don’t wear _armor_. Really, how do I look?”

 

Elsa sighed and looked again. A breastplate floated tenuously above a pair of legs clad in brown breeches and riding boots. Two arms in white sleeves stuck out on either side of the breastplate and an oversized slotted helm sat on top. Anna’s limbs looked thin and gangly in comparison to the armor. To be perfectly honest, the younger princess resembled a squat steel toad. Or a chicken. Yes, a chicken was a better description with that ridiculous red plume waving gently about from the top of the helm.

 

“Unflattering” was the kindest adjective Elsa could think of.

 

“Really? What about Kristoff?”

 

They both turned their heads over to look. Well, Anna tried to—the younger girl had to waddle a bit to the side to see her older brother.

 

Kristoff’s stockier frame held up the armor better, but even he looked small underneath it. He was also struggling to walk with the additional weight and nearly tripped over his own feet.

 

“Does his majesty require assistance?” Elsa asked, still in her role of squire.

 

“Huh?” Kristoff lurched backward to regain balance. “Oh, right, I’m the king. No, I got it! Wow, how did knights back then move in this?” He staggered sideways.

 

Elsa went to him and righted Kristoff with a shove to his shoulder.

 

“Better?” She asked.

 

He nodded from beneath the helm and pushed up the visor. “Thanks, Elsa.”

 

Elsa looked at the prince. “You know this idea is very bad, don’t you?” While Kristoff often went along with his sister’s ideas, he was a great deal more grounded than she was.

 

Kristoff grinned. “It’s crazy, but it sounds like fun, too. And we’re already gotten this far, so why not?”

 

“Anna might stop if we both said no. But you’re not going to, are you?”

 

Kristoff shook his head. “Sorry, Elsa. You’ve been outvoted.”

 

“I usually am,” she said dejectedly, and turned to help Kristoff to his pony. They looked from the floor to the top of the pony’s saddleless back.

 

“Uh,” Kristoff said. There was a loud clattering noise and they turned to see Anna stagger to her own pony and make a grab for its neck to keep herself upright.

 

“I’ll go find a chair,” Elsa sighed. She fetched one that’d been left in another dark corner and brought it to Kristoff first. God, both Anna and Kristoff looked ridiculous standing there in their various pieces of armor. Elsa still couldn’t believe that she’d agreed to this. Well, she’d been outvoted, which was a ridiculous concept anyway, because they were the children of royalty and democracy was treated as a dirty word in their presence.

 

Kristoff needed Elsa to steady him up on the chair. She also needed to hold his pony’s reins, the animal’s ears flicking back tellingly; it attempted to shy away from the alien thing that was about to sit on its back. Elsa supposed horses these days weren’t used to armor-clad people trying to mount them.

 

Kristoff threw a leg over the pony’s broad back and gingerly settled down, gauntlet fingers holding fast onto its mane.

 

“Good?” She asked. He nodded and shifted his legs to grip the pony’s slippery back better with his knees. Elsa handed him the reins before picking up the chair to help Anna. Anna had an even harder time getting up on the chair; Elsa had to half-fling her up.

 

“You are heavy,” Elsa grunted, dodging Anna’s pinwheeling arms. “At least Kristoff could move on his own with his armor.”

 

“It’s not my fault!” Anna squawked.

 

“Of course it is, this entire ordeal is your fault,” Elsa said waspishly. “There, I have a hold on the reins. Can you mount on your own?”

 

Anna clutched the pony’s mane, slid across its back and nearly sailed right off the other side. “Elsa!” Anna shrieked, her legs flailing frantically trying to find a hold on the pony.

 

The older girl seized the closest thing she could grab, which happened to be the back of Anna’s breeches, and threw herself backward trying to haul Anna upright.

 

The pony danced about in confusion, alarmed at what was occurring behind its head. The younger girl was half-dangling off its back, one arm thrown around the beast’s neck. The breastplate was dragging her down, while her helm was askew, held on only by the buckle strap under Anna’s chin that Elsa had fastened herself.

 

“Come _on_ , Anna,” Elsa gritted out, feeling the heels of her shoes sliding along the smooth floor. “I can’t hold onto you forever, _do something!_ ”

 

 _“I’m trying! Pull harder!”_ Anna yelled, voice muffled. Vaguely, Elsa could hear laughter and wanted to groan. She deserved it, for agreeing to this stupid tourney idea, for abetting it, for not simply ignoring Anna’s taunts and sitting in a corner for an hour until she could escape. Now she was stuck clinging to the seat of Anna’s pants while a pony was trying to flee the lot of them.

 

She was never going to go along with _any_ of Anna’s ideas again, Elsa thought darkly.

 

With that comforting thought, Elsa gave a mighty heave and Anna finally lay sprawled facedown against her pony’s neck. They were both panting and sweating and realized that Kristoff was laughing uproariously nearby.

 

“Shut up, Kristoff,” Anna said breathlessly. 

 

“Never again,” Elsa snapped, bent double with her palms braced on her knees while trying to catch her breath. “This—this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I ought to have let you fall over.”

 

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad,” Anna laughed, arms still held fast around her pony’s neck. “We did it! Just… give me a second. And then we can start.” She carefully sat up and righted her helm. “Oh, Elsa, can you lead the ponies to the center so Kristoff faces me? Like in a real tourney?”

 

Elsa glared at her, but Anna probably couldn’t see it since the visor was down. The older princess did as asked and retrieved the broomsticks and barrel lids, thrusting them into Kristoff and Anna’s hands.

 

“We are not doing this again,” Elsa warned the pair ominously, still flushed with exertion. “Go once and then we stop, all right?”

 

Both nodded, the red plumes twitching from atop their heads like bobbing parrots. Elsa started to walk off when Anna uttered something no gently-bred lady, much less a _princess_ , had any business saying.

 

The words almost made Elsa's hair stand on end. The fact that it’d been delivered in an awful French accent made it more horrifying.

 

And then Kristoff’s rejoinder to that was something equally unbecoming, only in an English accent that was no better than his sister’s French one.

 

Elsa wondered if her jaw was even attached to her face anymore as Anna and Kristoff continued to exchange  uncomplimentary words with each other, sprinkled with fits of giggles and snorts. Elsa didn’t even know what _most_ of those words meant, or the parts of the anatomy they referred to, most of which, it seemed, were not even human.

 

“ _What are you two doing?”_ The older princess finally yelped once she recovered, her face red with shock.

 

Anna and Kristoff looked at her. “We have to get into character!” Anna proclaimed.

 

“And Papa says the French and English _hate_ each other,” Kristoff added. “And they were at war and all.”

 

“You’re—those words— ” Elsa didn’t even know what to call them. “You can’t say those! Your parents would kill you!”

 

“Not if they don’t find out,” Anna said. Then she said something to Kristoff that _did_ make Elsa’s hair stand on end, it was so coarse.

 

“Where did you even _hear_ those words?” Elsa asked unwillingly. She suspected she knew where.

 

“Oh, we heard the stable hands back home in Corona saying them,” Anna said.

 

Anna and Kristoff spent entirely too much time with the stable hands in Corona, Elsa thought. She couldn’t take any more of this. She simply couldn’t. Her ears were still burning from the indignities that’d just been flung. She didn’t _want_ to know those kinds of words, even though Anna and Kristoff relished repeating them.

 

“Let’s just start this, please,” Elsa said tiredly.

 

Both mounted prince and princess brightened. “Yeah! Okay, Elsa, um, wave a handkerchief or something! Then we can charge and try to unseat each other!” Anna said.

 

Resigned, Elsa dug through a pocket in her skirt for the handkerchief she carried habitually. Wordlessly, she held it aloft above her head like a tiny flag, feeling very silly. She hoped it would be over soon.

 

“Ready?” She asked.

 

Anna giggled again. “It’s like you’re the maiden in those stories. You know, the one knights fight over?”

 

Kristoff chortled as well. “Yeah, the fair maiden! Except you literally are, you know, fair.”

 

Elsa glared at both of them. “If you would, Joan, Henry,” she said acerbically.  The pair slapped their visors down and pointed their lances. Elsa wanted to sigh again. They both looked absurd: Anna still looked like some form of metal poultry astride her bored pony, and Kristoff, who at least looked human, resembled an actual dwarf knight.

 

“Ready!” They chorused.

 

Elsa dropped her arm. Anna and Kristoff dug their heels into their ponies’ sides. The ponies gave a little start and began to lazily trot forward while the cobbled metal pieces of Arendelle legacy clattered loudly together. Anna’s helm immediately tilted drunkenly askew, her broomstick aimed precariously high.

 

“Agh! I can’t see!” Anna yelled.

 

Conversely, Kristoff was remarkably stable, only his pony began to veer away from its approaching kin. The prince tried to steer it back with ineffectual tugs on its reins and almost dropped his barrel lid.

 

Elsa stared. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong.

 

“Oh, my god,” she said, gaze riveted. She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to.

 

Anna was still yelling that she was blind and wondering out loud where Kristoff was. Kristoff was barely holding onto his shield and when he yanked on the reins to control his mount, the broomstick tucked under his arm sailed down to smack his pony between the ears. The beast snorted indignantly and pranced, jostling Kristoff up and down until he was nearly falling off to the side, making the prince cling like a tick. Anna’s pony continued on steadily and obliviously, plowing Anna’s pointed lance right into Kristoff’s shoulder. The broomstick skidded off the edge of the breastplate and up, crashing into the side of Kristoff’s helm and making it ring like a dinner bell.

 

“Oww!’ Kristoff bellowed. “Anna, that hurt!”

 

“What? What? What’s going on?” Anna yelled back. “Did I win?”

 

Then the grand finale: Kristoff finally slid off all the way and landed in a heap on the floor, the armor making an astonishing amount of noise that spooked both ponies. Kristoff’s took off in a run, trotting safely away to the other end of the ballroom. Anna’s mount whinnied and danced sideways, clearly having had enough and tried to buck the younger girl off. Anna immediately dropped her lance and shield and seized the reins with both hands.

 

 _Oh, god_. Elsa didn’t have to grow up with horses as Anna had to know that the younger girl was in danger. The pony was frightened and agitated, and Anna was weighed down, blind, and had no saddle to brace herself into.

 

Elsa could only watch in helpless panic and terror as Anna struggled to control the pony, the older princess’s hands spread out before her. If she had to, she would use the ice. She’d never done such a thing, deliberately using it against another living being, but she would do it if it would save Anna.

 

“Calm down!” Anna hissed. “You’re all right, just calm—”

 

The pony twisted and with no stirrup to support her, Anna careened to the side, momentum carrying her off.

 

Elsa stopped breathing. There was no air in the room, no breath in her lungs, as every muscle in her body simply went limp at the sight of Anna falling. She looked so small, so helpless, as she landed onto the unforgiving floor next to those pounding hooves. The younger princess laid there, stunned.

 

By some miracle, strength returned and Elsa immediately ran to the pony and seized its loose reins, leading it away from Anna. Her heart began beating again when she could see Anna start to move. She tried to call her name, but found her voice unusable, her throat tight.

 

_Oh god, oh god, Anna could have died. She could have been trampled. I have to… I have to…_

Elsa released the reins and ran to Anna, her legs giving out just as she reached the younger girl. She landed bruisingly hard on her knees next to Anna and started to reach out to touch her, then immediately drew back. _She could be hurt_.

 

“Anna? Are you all right? Can you hear me? Are you hurt?” The words tumbled out of her, laced with frantic terror and hope.

 

“Ugh,” Anna said. She was flat on her back, limbs spread out. “Stupid helm. The visor?”

 

Gingerly, Elsa pulled the visor up and peered in. Blue eyes blinked back up at her and tangled strands of copper stuck out from underneath.

 

“Does it hurt anywhere?” Elsa asked, vaguely aware of voices coming from outside and Kristoff shuffling about. She still wasn’t touching Anna, not until she was certain Anna was all right.

 

“I’m fine, I think,” Anna said, after a moment. She wiggled her arms and legs experimentally, then attempted to nod. “Stupid helm,” she repeated. The younger princess had lived her life among horses and knew what kind of injuries riders risked from spills. “I can feel everything. My back kind of hurts, though,” Anna added. “I think that’s because I kind of landed on it. Breath knocked out of my lungs.”

 

Elsa sagged back in relief, sitting on her heels while she tried to even out her breathing. She was fine. Anna was fine. Her back hurt, but she was fine. Then she was filled with fury and the anger gave her strength again, made her lean over Anna and glare.

 

“You could have died, you _idiot_ ,” Elsa snapped.

 

Anna blinked back at her in confusion, unused to seeing Elsa so upset. “But I’m fine, Elsa.”

 

“That pony could have stepped on you and _killed_ you!” The thought sent a wave of red over her sight, then it promptly turned into icy fear at the thought of losing Anna. God, Anna was so _stupid_ sometimes. Elsa wanted to shake her and hug her at the same time, and did neither because Anna was still prone on the floor and Elsa knew better than to try to move her. Just in case.

 

“But it turned out all right,” Anna pointed out. She paused. “What’s that noise?”

 

They both stopped and realized people were outside the ballroom. The doors rattled, like someone was trying to open it, followed by a terrifyingly familiar voice that put ice in everybody’s blood: Elsa’s father, King Alexander. “What is this commotion? Did someone say they heard _horses_ inside?” They heard his distinctive commanding voice say.

 

Kristoff sighed loudly. “We’re dead. Papa’s going to kill us first, then Uncle Alexander, and then probably Mama, too, if she thinks we don’t look sorry enough.”

 

Anna looked stricken. “I’m sorry, Elsa. You’re going to get punished and it wasn’t even your fault and—”

 

Elsa didn’t really care about the prospect of punishment. She was just so glad that Anna wasn’t hurt, but angry as well, at the younger girl for coming up with this ridiculous idea. But most of all, she was angry at herself for not stopping Anna because she knew that if she’d truly pushed it, she could have stopped Anna and Kristoff from ever going anywhere near those ponies, veto or not. Then Anna would never have lost control of her pony, would never have fallen and almost gotten crushed right in front of Elsa.

 

The relief and guilt sat heavily upon her shoulders in equal measure, even as the doors were flung open and she knew her father and probably the entire castle staff were there, staring at the mess before them. Elsa didn’t care, didn’t even turn her head to look because her eyes were on Anna’s face and she found herself promising silently that no matter how much Anna persuaded, demanded, and cajoled, if it sounded wrong or was just a _bad_ idea, as this entire exercise had been, Elsa would not give in. She was going to treat it as a lesson well-learned.

 

“Never again,” Elsa told Anna. “I am never, _ever_ letting you do anything _stupid_ again.”

 

Anna sighed. “Does breathing count?”

 

“I really will kill you if you die on me,” Elsa said, meaning every word. “If you get yourself killed, I will come after you and kill you again. I swear it, Anna.”

 

It was, in a way, a declaration of love, only delivered in as menacing a voice as a twelve year-old nerve-wracked princess could manage, but Elsa was her father’s daughter and could sound very intimidating indeed.

 

Anna sighed again, knowing implacable feeling when she saw it. “Okay,” she acquiesced, just as adults flooded into the ballroom to see to the felled Joan and King Henry.

 

 

 

 


End file.
